


Childhood Mistakes (Wildwing - Age 12)

by haruka



Category: Mighty Ducks (animated)
Genre: Spanking, mighty ducks - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-01-08
Updated: 2007-01-08
Packaged: 2018-01-15 23:50:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1323862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/haruka/pseuds/haruka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Twelve-year-old Wildwing is in charge of his little brother, Nosedive, when disaster strikes.  Contains spanking.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Childhood Mistakes (Wildwing - Age 12)

*Note* Contains spanking. For the benefit of those who don't know the history, the Mighty Ducks originated from a planet called Puckworld in another dimension. Before Nosedive turns 16, the planet is invaded by the Saurians, led by the evil overlord Dragaunus. Wildwing's friend Canard leads the Resistance, bringing the Mighty Ducks together (Nosedive only gets to join on Wildwing's insistance.) Canard sacrifices himself to save the team members in battle, and they follow Dragaunus through a dimensional porthole that lands both sides in Anaheim on modern day Earth.

It should be noted that on Puckworld, it’s winter year round and _everyone_ grows up knowing how to skate and play hockey.

The Mighty Ducks (animated series) – Childhood Mistakes: Wildwing (age 12)

By Haruka (haruka@ymail.com)

\--

Mrs. Flashblade walked into her living room, fastening the buttons on her coat. She smiled upon seeing her two little boys, quietly engrossed in their own activities. “Wildwing, I need to talk to you,” she addressed the elder child.

Her twelve-year-old son looked up from his handheld video game. “Yeah, Mom?”

“I have to run a couple of errands in town, and I need you to watch Nosedive for a couple of hours.”

Hearing his name, Wildwing’s four-year-old brother turned away from his cartoon show. He saw his mother with her coat on and jumped to his feet. “I want to go with you, Mama!” he said eagerly.

“No, you don’t, sweetie. It’s going to be very dull – I’m going to take the car in for servicing, and while they take care of that, I’ll be getting my hair cut.”

Nosedive made a face. “Oh. Boring.” He sat back down and faced the television.

“So can you do this for me, Wing?” his mother asked him.

“Sure, Mom, no problem.” Wildwing reached out and ruffled Nosedive’s blonde hair. “I’ll look after the brat.”

“I’m NOT a brat.” Nosedive stuck his tongue out at his older brother.

“Well, not _all_ the time, maybe,” Wildwing teased him.

Their mother picked up her purse. “Okay, boys, I should be back no later than four o’clock. I’ll pick up something for dinner on the way. Nosedive, be good and mind your brother.” She kissed the tops of both their heads. “Mrs. Thunderbeak is at home next door, Wing, so if you run into any trouble you call her, okay?”

“_Yes_, Mom.” Wildwing rolled his eyes. At this rate, his mother was going to miss both her appointments.

“’Yes, Mom’,” she mimicked him and mussed his hair. “Bye for now.”

Wildwing settled back with his game as their mother left. He’d babysat for Nosedive before and never had any trouble. Usually, his little brother was happy just so long as he could be with him. And truth be told, Wing loved Nosedive like crazy. It was nice to have someone idolize you so completely, and he really didn’t mind the little duckling tagging along with him. Most of the time.

For the first fifteen minutes, the two boys did pretty much what they had been doing when their mother left, except that Wildwing got the two of them a light snack from the kitchen to stave off starvation until their mother would return with dinner. He had just finished eating his apple when there was a knock at the door. “Stay here, Dive,” he told his brother, then went to the door. He knew he wasn’t supposed to open it when his parents weren’t home unless he knew who it was, but the chain was on the latch, so he could safely open it a crack, which he did. “Yes?” he asked.

His best friend and neighbor, Canard, peered back at him. “Hi Wing!”

“Canard, hi!” Wildwing quickly unlatched the chain and opened the door. “Come on in!”

“No, you come out,” Canard told him with a grin. “I just got some cool new hockey equipment set up on our back rink – want to come play?”

“Wow, yeah!” Wildwing said enthusiastically. There was nothing he loved better than playing hockey with Canard – his friend was the only one who ever really challenged his goalie skills.

“Come on, then!” Canard headed back down the driveway and Wildwing started to follow him when he noticed his mother’s car was gone and remembered his promise to her.

“Wait, Canard!” he called after him. “I have to get Dive!”

His friend frowned. “How come?”

“Because I’m babysitting him – my mom’s not home.” Wildwing ran back into the house and went to the living room. “Nosedive, come on,” he said. “We’re going over to Canard’s to play some hockey.”

The little boy looked up at his big brother. “Really? I can play with you?” he asked.

“Of course!” Wildwing told him. He never refused to let Nosedive play – how else would his kid brother improve at hockey if he didn’t help him? And even at four, Dive was showing incredible potential. Canard usually grumbled about the little ‘tagalong’, but he always gave in for Wing’s sake.

Nosedive looked tempted, but glanced back at the tv wistfully. “My show’s not over yet,” he said. “I really wanted to see this one.”

“More than you want to play _hockey_?” Wildwing pressed.

“Well …,” Nosedive said slowly, “can’t I play with you after?”

Wildwing felt torn. By the clock, there was another forty-five minutes to go before this special show was over. He wanted to tell Nosedive it would be repeated, but he couldn’t promise that, and their VCR was on the blink.

“Wing, are you coming?” Canard asked as he leaned in the living room doorway.

“Uh ….” Wildwing debated with himself. Canard lived right next door – he wouldn’t be all that far away if Nosedive needed him. And what could possibly happen in forty-five minutes when all the kid would be doing was sitting here watching tv? “Yeah,” he said, “I’m coming.” He knelt down beside Nosedive and put a hand on his shoulder so that he’d face him. “Dive, I’m going to be next door on Canard’s rink playing hockey. When your show is over, you come over and play with us, okay?”

“Okay, Wing.” Nosedive grinned and turned back to his program.

“Let’s go!” Canard said eagerly. “Don’t bother getting your gear – you can use the new stuff, there’s goalie pads and everything!”

“All right!” Wildwing ran after his friend and the two of them charged out of the house and across the yard to Canard’s.

\--

Nosedive laughed at something that happened on the tv, then a commercial came on. He flopped back against the couch and looked around the empty room. The house was awfully quiet when no one was home, he realized.

No one was home.

It hadn’t really registered on the four-year-old until just then, but for the first time ever in his life, he was alone in the house. It was a little scary, and suddenly the Thunderbeaks’ house seemed very, very far away.

Nosedive stood up and started to run for the door, feeling panic grip him. He had just grabbed the doorknob when another thought struck him.

If no one else was home, he might be able to do something he was never allowed to do normally – like play with his parents’ hockey equipment.

Nosedive was quiet as he made his way up the stairs, almost as if Wildwing would hear him from the yard next door if he wasn’t. He slipped into his parents’ room and went to the closet, opening the door.

There they were, his father’s new skates. Nosedive had skates of his own, of course, just like Wildwing. Their parents always made sure they had good, properly-fitting equipment which was regularly replaced as they grew. However, there was something about the big ducks’ equipment that fascinated little Nosedive and made him want to try it out.

He pulled out the skates and put them on his own feet. They were way too large for him, and it was hard to balance, but it made him feel grown-up to have them on. He reached for his mother’s new hockey stick and posed in front of the full-length mirror. Something was missing ….

Oh yeah! Wildwing’s goalie mask! Nosedive didn’t plan on being a goalie himself, but he thought Wing looked really cool in his mask. And since Canard told Wing not to bring his equipment with him, the mask had to be in his brother’s room.

Nosedive took a couple of tentative steps in his father’s skates and began to teeter. He tried to catch himself with the hockey stick, but overbalanced instead and fell. The stick caught the edge of the mirror and tipped it over. It hit the corner of the desk with a crash.

Nosedive froze in horror, then pulled off the skates and put them back in the closet along with the stick. He grabbed hold of the mirror and tried to push it back upright, but it was too heavy for him.

“OW!” he cried suddenly, lifting his right foot off the ground. There was glass from the mirror all over – he must have cut his foot on a piece. It hurt a lot. He limped away from the glass and sat down, studying his foot. Sure enough, a thin line of blood was visible. Nosedive started to cry.

The phone rang on their parents’ bedside table. Nosedive wiped his eyes and limped over to pick it up. “Hel - *hic* - lo?”

“Nosedive, is that you?” came his father’s voice. “Are you all right, son?”

“Nooo~oo!” the little duck wailed.

“What is it?! What’s wrong?! Put your mother on the phone!”

“Mama’s not … *sniff*… here, Papa,” Nosedive whimpered. “My foot huuurts.”

“Not there?” his father said. “Then put Wildwing on!”

“Wing’s not here … *hic* … either.”

“Are you saying you’re there all ALONE?!”

“Waaaahhh!”

On the other end of the line, the blood had drained from Mr. Flashblade’s face and he was gripping the receiver tightly. “Nosedive,” he said, trying to keep his voice calm, “hang up the phone, son. I’m going to phone Mrs. Thunderbeak and have her go over there. Stay right where you are – where are you, anyway?”

Nosedive began to cry again. “I-I’m in YOUR roooooom! I’m sorryyyy, I didn’t mean to BREAK it!”

Mr. Flashblade was nearly out of his mind with fear. “It’s okay, Dive, just stay put and don’t move until Mrs. Thunderbeak gets there. Hang up the phone now.”

Nosedive obediently hung up the phone and the house got quiet and scary again. A thin rivulet of blood was running from the cut on his foot, and that frightened him even more than the quiet. He pulled his mother’s pillow into his wings and sobbed into it.

\--

Canard fired another puck at the net but Wildwing deflected it. “Wow, Wing, you’re hot today!” his friend praised.

“This is great equipment you got,” Wildwing said, tapping the new stick against the ice. “Ready for another round?”

“You bet!” Canard skated a circle around the line-up of pucks and pulled back his stick to shoot another. The sound of the back door opening interrupted him and he paused to look toward it. “Oh, hi Mom. We’re just trying out the new equipment.”

“Wildwing,” Mrs. Thunderbeak said seriously, ignoring her son, “weren’t you supposed to be looking after your little brother?”

Wildwing removed the goalie mask. Canard’s mother looked very grim. He gulped.

“Um, yes, Ma’am,” he said. “I wanted him to come over with me, but he didn’t want to until his show was over – “

“So you just left him alone?” Mrs. Thunderbeak demanded. “Your mother told you to stay with him, didn’t she?”

“It’s okay, Mom,” Canard said, attempting to intervene on his friend’s behalf. “The squirt was just gonna be watching tv, and it’s only been half an hour since we left him.”

“Well, that was long enough for Nosedive to get hurt, Canard,” his mother said angrily.

“Hurt?!” Wildwing threw down the hockey stick and pulled off the skates, then ran over to Mrs. Thunderbeak. “Where is he? Is he okay?!”

“He’s just inside.” She stood aside so that Wildwing could enter. There was Nosedive, sitting on the kitchen table, slurping on a Popsicle. His right foot had a bandage wrapped around it.

“Dive, are you okay?!” Wildwing asked the younger duck. “What happened to your foot?”

“I broke Mama’s mirror,” Nosedive admitted.

“He cut himself on the glass,” Mrs. Thunderbeak told Wildwing. “It wasn’t serious, just painful.”

Wildwing didn’t ask his brother how he’d gone from watching tv to breaking the mirror in their parents’ room. He just scooped him up in his arms and held him tightly, ignoring the sticky Popsicle that dripped down his neck feathers.

\--

Wildwing hung his head and avoided looking at his parents’ angry, disappointed faces. His father had reached home first, having left work immediately after calling Mrs. Thunderbeak. His wife had made good time at her appointments and arrived home to find his car in the driveway and no one in the house. After joining them all at the Thunderbeaks’ and learning the whole story, Wildwing’s parents had taken he and Nosedive home.

Now here he was, in more trouble than he’d ever been in in his life. Nosedive had been carried upstairs so that he could stay off his foot, and Wildwing suspected, so he wouldn’t be present for what happened next.

“Wildwing,” his father said, “I don’t think I have to tell you why what you did was wrong, do I?”

“No, Dad,” Wildwing replied softly. “I’m really sorry Dive got hurt.”

“It could have been worse,” Mrs. Flashblade said. “If that mirror had fallen on top of him, he could have been cut to ribbons. Not to mention that any number of other things could have happened – the house could have caught fire, a stranger could have walked in and made off with him ….”

Wildwing felt tears form in his eyes. It was bad enough that Nosedive had been hurt because of his neglect, but the thought that he could have been permanently injured, killed or kidnapped was unbearable.

“We had a long talk with Nosedive about touching things that don’t belong to him, and he’s not allowed to watch tv for a week,” his father said. “We aren’t doing more than that this time because we feel his being cut and the fright he got was enough.” He gave Wildwing a direct look. “As for you, you’re not allowed to play hockey or hang out with Canard for two weeks. And I think you know what else is coming, don’t you?”

“Yes sir,” Wildwing said resignedly.

“Come here, then.”

Wildwing got up and went over to where his father waited.

“Take your pants and underwear down.”

The twelve-year-old swallowed but obeyed. Mr. Flashblade turned him around and bent him over, holding him firmly under one arm. He raised his hand.

“NO, Papa!” A little blonde blur hurtled toward his father’s legs and wrapped himself around one. “Don’t spank, Wing, Papa! It was _my_ fault!”

“Nosedive, you’re not supposed to be walking on that foot,” Mrs. Flashblade said, and moved to separate their younger son from his father’s leg.

“I’m not going if Papa’s gonna spank Wing!” Nosedive insisted, then started to wail as his mother managed to disengage him. “NOOOO! Don’t let him do it, Mamaaaa!” he cried as she carried him away, kicking and squirming.

Wildwing didn’t get any more time to think about what just happened – his father gave his backside a solid whack that made him cry out. Nosedive heard him and began to scream even more loudly. When the next whack came, Wildwing kept his beak tightly shut.

“I hope I never … *WHACK!* … have to do this again … *WHACK!* … Wildwing,” his father said as he spanked his young son. “But you … *WHACK!* … have to learn that … *WHACK!* … helping us look out for … *WHACK!* … Nosedive is your most … *WHACK!* … important responsibility, and … *WHACK!* … neglecting it could result in … *WHACK!* … a tragedy none of us wants.”

Wildwing was crying by then, but only partly from the pain of the spanking. Mostly it was because he already knew everything his father was saying to him was true, and he felt terrible for letting not only his parents, but his baby brother down.

Mr. Flashblade spanked his son two more times then allowed him to straighten up and get dressed. Wildwing hiccupped and sniffled, his shoulders shaking from repressed sobs.

“Your brother adores you, Wing,” his father told him quietly. “But I don’t have to tell you that. You saw it yourself, and you know it’s always been the case.”

“I know, Dad,” Wildwing said, his voice hitching. “Can I go see him now?”

His father nodded, and the white-feathered duckling hurried out of the room.

\--

Wildwing found Nosedive in his room, sobbing heartbrokenly into a pillow. He went to the bedside and sat down with a wince, then touched the younger boy’s shoulder. “Hey Dive, it’s me.”

Nosedive looked up quickly, then flung himself into Wildwing’s embrace. “I’m sorry, Wiiiing!” the little duck cried. “You got spanked and it’s all my fauuuult!”

“No, it isn’t,” Wildwing said soothingly as he stroked Nosedive’s soft blonde hair. “It was my own fault. And you should be mad at me, too – I did a bad thing when I left you alone. You wouldn’t have cut your foot or been scared if I hadn’t.”

“I wasn’t scared,” Nosedive protested with a sniffle.

“Okay, you weren’t scared,” Wildwing said easily, drawing back so he could look his little brother in the eyes. “This is never going to happen again, Dive. I’m _always_ going be there for you from now on, no matter what happens. I promise.”

Nosedive smiled and wrapped his wings around the older boy’s neck. “I love you, Wing.”

Wildwing hugged the warm feathered body against him protectively. “I love you, too, baby brother. Don’t ever forget it.” And neither will I, he vowed silently.

\--

(2002)

Disclaimer: The Mighty Ducks characters belong to Disney.

This fic is not to be re-posted.


End file.
